Excerpt

Today yet another artificial tree appeared in front of my balcony. I am living surrounded by a small forest of plastic plants, I am overshadowed by their hulking forms. They were erected in a night to improve 5G reception in the neighbourhood! Instead of the blue sky and white clouds through my windows there is only grey concrete. I can now also hear the rustling of plastic plane trees without knowing whether the sound emitted from the leaf speakers is being transmitted live from some forest in the Trentino area or if it is a squalid recording of when there used to be a copse of pine trees by my house.

This time the frondy fake is shorter than three metres. If I needed to I could use it as a fire escape. The TV pylon covered in fake pine needles is already next to it as is a line of electricity pylons wearing terrible brown carpet to disguise them.,

A studio apartment on the fourth of sixteen floors can't disperse that much stress so I decide to go out to clear my brain. As I go to the door, the prototypes of noses, ears, and fingers stare anxiously at me from the shelf next to the Chemical Brothers poster. I have to deliver two samples of noses and three of ears to the burns unit at Sant'Eugenio hospital by Monday morning; however until I have calmed down I would only manage to damage the 3D printer. Always assuming the seasonal blackouts don't prevent me from composing during the weekend.

Outside I look for small gatherings of people, mounds of sweating flesh and concentrations of human odours. At least until the plastiplane trees are able to diffuse synthetic odours to fool our senses. I can't see a living being. A drone here and there doing remote sightseeing for who knows who, who knows where. The odd self-driving car wanders around aimlessly waiting for passengers to wake up their sensors. The only food-delivery riders to be seen are agile dog-like things piloted remotely by gamers sprawled on sofas to earn a few bucks to get their latest upgrade.

Then I see them, standing in the shade of a spiral staircase behind the shopping centre. There are at least eight of them, adolescents between twelve and thirteen. Their excitement shows as they fiddle with their phones, sending symphonies of emoticons. I move closer after sending a warning string: peace sign + hands up + smile + shy.

They answer with a line of thumbs up. Bro + Bro + Bro.

One of them moves aside and there, in the middle of them, I spot a woman on her knees wearing the orange uniform of a "livecatcher'. Pest control officers are called in for getting rid of bugs and rats, but they deal with all kinds of things now though: wolves, wild pigs, foxes, rabbits, tortoises, squirrels, otters, and swallows.

The object they are staring at, almost as if it were a heavenly vision, is a light emitting phenomenon, it looks as if dozens of LEDs have been strung in line, or as if a rainbow has been reduced to lines laid out on the ground. The emoticons scroll as fast as can be: question marks, exclamation marks, surprised faces, perplexed hands, and bizarre animals, everything a keyboard can provide.

In the end the expert - probably a zoologist in my opinion- after snatching up the creature with a litter grabber from the drain, emits a verdict: VIPER.